


whistling sand

by noona96n



Category: Original Work
Genre: Infidelity, Other, POV Second Person, non gender specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noona96n/pseuds/noona96n
Summary: She doesn't taste salty, she doesn't smell of the sea and there are no glitter grains littered across her skin like fine sand.She is your fiance, she is the love of your life but everything about her is wrong, wrong, wrong.





	whistling sand

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in response to a prompt given by my close friend.  
> the prompt is 'island'

The first thing you notice is her laughter: her lips parting like blooming flowers as they stretch across her moon-white teeth and her giggle sounds like waves crashing onto the shore. In the sea of people around you and your friends, your eyes land on her because the sound of her laughter is like a siren song calling you to land's end. It is her clearwater blue eyes and her ebony tan skin that make you decide to shed your inhibitions and dive headfirst into the water.

You shake your head, reluctant at first, and one of them says, "Go on, we won't tell."

"You’re here to have fun and be free," the other one urges, "it's your last chance to do something stupid and maybe discover yourself all over again."

But you’re not here to discover yourself. You already have your whole life figured out.

You’re here to enjoy the taste of alcohol in your mouth and the sweet summer air on your skin. You’re here to eat good food and get drunk and enjoy the last weekend of your uncommitted life with your friends.

You're not here to discover yourself-

-but you go anyway.

None of your friends stop you. After all, they are here for the sole purpose of encouraging you to enjoy your bachelorhood to the fullest before you fully commit yourself to marriage. So, they whistle, catcall, and send you off with a wink and sly giggles to commit the last folly of your youth.

-

She is as charming and outspoken as her laughter makes her out to be, her wit speeding in and out of the deep sea with ease and keeping you on your toes. 

She's tipsy and lethargic when she leans in and kisses you, mouth loosened from hours in your company. She tastes of salt and tequila, like the ocean, and her lips are plush like the sweet summer breeze against your skin.

You pull back as if burnt. 

"I have a fiance," You tell her, your lips tingling pleasantly. Your ears are ringing and your head buzzes from the adrenaline as if you've been submerged underwater for too long.

"Oh," she remarks, her lips are pinkish-orange like the setting sun reflecting across the water, "I'm so sorry."

You smile stiffly, hand balled into a tight fist, and she apologizes again before she turns to leave.

Stupidly, impulsively,  _ bravely _ , you grab onto her forearm and pull her back. Her skin is soft but gritty with glitter under your palm and she stumbles backward, the alcohol in her glass sloshing over the rim and onto her breast. The tan skin of her chest glistens under the dreamy fluorescent light of the club and you want to lick her clean of any liquid. 

When you look up, you see that she's staring at you coyly, her lips curved up into a knowing smirk. You let go again, your skin is warm where you touch her, like ocean water on a clear summer day.

She just stares back at you, unmoving like the still water of the sea before a storm. Her eyes are shiny and all-knowing, waiting patiently for you to make up your mind.

-

It is an isolated incident, you tell yourself, and like an abandoned island with no inhabitants, this experience will be forgotten and left adrift in the vast ocean of your memory.

Infidelity, you've been told, is when there's an emotional connection. It's not infidelity if it's purely physical; that's just satisfying your needs. And so, you part her legs and dive into her body like you would the sea and harvest the pearls from between her thighs.

-

You return home and kiss your fiance sweetly on the mouth. Your heart thunders wildly inside your ribcage and your love for her is overflowing at the seam of your mouth and the tips of your fingers.

"Welcome home," your fiance says against your lips, her flower pink mouth stretched into a gorgeous smile over her fine china teeth.

"Home sweet home," you reply and kiss her again; savoring all the flavors that you love: apple and honey and your fiance's lipstick. You press your forehead against hers afterward and breathe in the fruity fragrance of your fiance's favorite perfume, the perfume you bought for her on your anniversary. Then you pull back to tug the stray hair behind her ear and settle your palm softly against your fiance's smooth, ivory cheek as you admire her radiant beauty.

She doesn't taste salty, she doesn't smell of the sea and there are no glitter grains littered across her skin like fine sand.

She is your fiance, she is the love of your life but everything about her is wrong, wrong,  _ wrong _ .

-

You miss the sea.

But you miss the island even more.


End file.
